


Closed Doors and Open Windows

by 3blinks1wink



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Middle School Hinata, Miya Atsumu is a Little Shit, Slow Burn, beach volleyball player hinata, fluff and volleyball, he switches to indoor volleyball, hinata levels up, volleyball idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29046174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3blinks1wink/pseuds/3blinks1wink
Summary: Hinata Shouyou moved to Hyogo Prefecture when he was eleven years old and around that time he fell in love with beach volleyball. But the high school he was planning on attending had their beach volleyball club disbanded.Maybe it’s time for a new challenge.Can he make the switch to indoor volleyball? Can he make it onto the best team in the prefecture - one of the best teams in all of Japan - the Inarizaki High team?[ or, Shouyou just wants to play volleyball. Atsumu doesn’t play with scrubs. ]
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 4
Kudos: 73





	Closed Doors and Open Windows

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from a mix of these three quotes, mostly the last one.  
> 1) When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us. - Alexander Graham Bell
> 
> 2) When God closes a door, he leaves a window open, but it’s up to us to find it. - Jeanette Walls
> 
> 3) When one door closes, a window opens. - Julie Andrews

The Inarizaki boys’ volleyball team had two days before summer training camp, and instead of spending that time resting and preparing for ten days of hell, they were going to the beach.

Atsumu thought it was a dumb idea, but Kita Shinsuke—one of the only senpais on the team that Atsumu truly respected (feared)—had told him he was required to come along. So he came along.

Even though he’d much rather be reviewing game tape or watching the Black Jackals v Red Falcons match than spending even more time with his scrub teammates.

Since taking third at the InterHigh National Tournament, Atsumu had been frustrated and pissed off. He may have been taking it out on his brother, his team, and his extremely punchable body pillow (but the team didn’t need to know about that last one). It only pissed him off more that the rest of his team didn’t seem as frustrated he felt.

_Why are they all fine with accepting third place? Why aren’t they as determined to get better, get stronger, so that we can win next time? Scrubs, all of them. Slackers. Piss-ant whiners. Losers._

He hadn’t hesitated to share these opinions with his teammates. Which is why so many of the third years hated his guts now (not that they had liked him much before). The second and first years weren’t too fond of him either.

It was Aran’s idea to take a “team bonding” trip to the beach before training camp hell started and Kita latched onto the idea like a barnacle. Then he made Atsumu promise to come or else he’d have to do the team’s laundry for a month.

Everyone was excited to go (which Atsumu took as further proof that they were all a bunch of slackers and not as committed to volleyball as he was). They were all saying things like, “it’s our last chance for fun before camp” and “maybe we’ll see some babes in bikinis”.

Osamu wouldn’t shut up about the snacks he was gonna eat.

Personally, Atsumu couldn’t wait for training camp, to get better, to play with the university teams their coach invited, players who just might have something to offer in terms of things he could learn. That sounded like fun to him. Volleyball all day, every day. Sounded like more than fun, that was his idea of _paradise._

Wasting time and energy at the beach was the last thing he wanted to do, but he’d rather not earn the wrath of Kita.

He followed Suna and Osamu down the beach, assuming they knew where the rest of the team were meeting up. He hadn’t paid attention to the planning details, just gave Kita his word he’d show up and then zoned out, thinking about his last serve against Mujinazaka that had landed just barely out of bounds.

“Hey, ‘Tsumu. Look.” His brother pointed toward the left once he had Atsumu’s attention. “It’s yer one true love, in another form.” Suna snickered and Osamu smirked.

Eyebrows scrunching in confusion, Atsumu followed his brother’s pointing finger and saw a crowd of people down the beach.

There were volleyball nets set up, the crowd gathered to the side of them.

Four players, two on each side of the net, were mid-rally.

A player jumped up for a block, but the ball was dinked over his head. Before it hit the ground, the blocker’s partner dove for it, and with a spray of sand, the ball popped back into the air. But the other player who’d just failed to block was flustered and hit the ball into the net before it hit the ground. The two on the other side of the net cheered; point to them.

Atsumu felt himself perk up.

Suna snorted. “Like a fuckin’ dog and someone just said ‘treat.’ If ya ditch team bonding to go play beach volleyball, Kita’ll kick yer ass.”

“Looks like an official thing, too. Don’t think ya can just join in,” Osamu added, looking at the crowd more closely.

There was a banner off to the side: “Suma Middle Tournament.”

Atsumu was disappointed to realize that was probably true. The players had matching shirts and shorts, like uniforms. And there was an official referee and line judges. Definitely not something casual Atsumu could join for fun. Which was a shame. He might not have felt like the day was such a waste if he was at least playing a watered-down, sillier version of his favorite sport. It was still volleyball, at least. Sort of.

The team was meeting at a spot further down the beach and they’d have to go past the ongoing beach volleyball tournament to get there. Atsumu watched the games as they got closer and closer. Suna and his brother were ignoring him, talking with each other as he trailed behind.

Two games were going on simultaneously, but it seemed like one had drawn more attention than the other. More spectators, even a few people with cameras taking pictures.

He was sure the reason that match had drawn so much attention was due to one of the players wearing a yellow and white uniform. He was short. Like, really short. Atsumu let out a laugh as the shrimp jumped straight up in the air and blocked his opponent, stuffing him and getting a point.

It was a high friggin’ jump.

From a shrimpy kid.

Ha! What a freak show.

Must be embarrassing getting blocked by someone like that.

This is why indoor volleyball was superior. They took the sport seriously. No stupid gimmicks like super short kids doing jumping tricks.

Apparently that had been match point. The players were shaking hands and the spectators were shifting around, some getting closer while others dispersed or went to watch the still ongoing game at the other court.

As the three high schoolers dodged the crowd on their way down the beach, Atsumu couldn’t help but glance at the shorty and his partner. The smiles on their faces were the smiles of winners as they sipped at water bottles and gathered their stuff into bags from the bench they’d used during the match. The shorty had a hat on and as he adjusted it briefly, Atsumu just barely saw a flash of the brightest, most obnoxious orange colored hair before it was covered again by the hat.

Stupid hair.

Stupid winner.

Stupid winner’s smile.

Bitterness burned in Atsumu’s gut. Third fucking place. How did the rest of his team just move on? Weren’t they fucking mad about it? He wanted to win, goddamn it. First place, settling for anything less felt like swallowing the most bitter pill in existence.

He wanted to smile like those little twerps. Winning smiles.

As he watched the players, they started moving towards a section of canopies set up to provide some shade in the heat and sun, reserved for the competing teams. If Atsumu slowed his pace a bit, they would cross paths with him. For a split second (okay, it was more like five...ten...fifteen seconds) he thought about tripping the shorty as he walked by, just to see his smile disappear as he face planted in the hot beach sand. He’d probably sputter and get all embarrassed, ruining his winning mood. Atsumu would laugh and smirk down at him and maybe give an insincere apology and walk away, satisfied.

But he was better than that (barely), so Atsumu squashed the thought and focused on not getting lost as his brother and Suna got further ahead of him.

But he got distracted when a kid ran in front of him, aiming for the twerps, making him dodge so he wouldn’t get tripped up.

“Hinata-kun! Mori-kun! Mind answerin’ a few questions for the school newspaper?” The kid called out. The two players stopped short and turned as he came up to them.

Atsumu snorted. School newspaper. He and Osamu had been featured in this month’s edition of Volleyball Monthly, an actual magazine with a readership all over the country. He felt a little bloom of superiority in his chest.

“Sure, Izumi-kun!” Shorty answered cheerily.

A cheer went up from the crowd still watching the other game, drawing Atsumu’s attention. But when he looked over, both teams were regrouping for the next set. He’d missed whatever had caused the cheer.

He looked forward again, nearly tripping over his own feet in the sand as he realized he’d almost walked right into a pile bags and equipment some people had just left sitting in the sand. Fuck. What if he’d tripped and injured his hands? He kicked the bags.

When he looked back, intending to catch up to Osamu and Suna instead of lagging so far behind, he noticed the shorty was waving his hands around as he practically shouted at an older man.

What? Where the fuck had School Newspaper Boy gone? Where had this old guy come from? Atsumu looked away for like two seconds. Was this guy a Pedo? Should he blow a whistle or something—

“...The Kobe Chronicle?!” Shorty was yelling. “You want to talk to me?!”

“You’re Hinata Shouyou, third year middle schooler and captain of the Suma Middle School Boys’ Beach Volleyball team, correct?” Old Guy asked.

“Yeah! That’s me!” Shorty was bouncing on his toes.

Atsumu regretted his decision not to collide with the twerp and trip him. It would have been so satisfying to see him eat sand.

The Kobe Chronicle wasn’t bad. Local, definitely not as good as Volleyball Monthly, but not bad. Ugh. The kid was just a middle schooler, and it was beach volleyball. Why the fuck was a good newspaper like the Chronicle writing about it?

He sped up, wanting to get around the kid and far away. Find his stupid, unmotivated team and spend stupid quality bonding time with them. Get away from a twerp middle school kid’s winner’s glow.

Still, as he left the shorty behind, he could hear snippets of the interview, the kid’s voice was loud and the Old Guy wasn’t speaking in a whisper either.

“...third event this summer you and your partner, Mori, have won... anticipate you taking first at the Okinawa Champions Tournament… plans for the future?”

“...see what happens, but I’m not giving up yet!”

“...captain of your team… Motivation…”

“...we only have two options: to win, or to lose. And if we lose, we can’t keep playing. Losing means you have to clear out, make room for the next team. That’s really it. I just want to keep playing. Keep winning, so I can play longer than anyone and don’t have to leave the court.”

Atsumu stopped and looked back.

Well shit.

Maybe that kid wasn’t as much of a circus sideshow as he thought. Even with clown hair.

\- - -

Three hours later, Atsumu convinced Aran, Gin, and Osamu to play beach volleyball with him, two on two. Kita stood off to the side to supervise, making sure they didn’t get hurt (also keeping everyone playing fair, no cheating).

They played for half an hour before they got tired of falling on their asses from slipping on the sand. Atsumu decided he fucking hated beach volleyball, visions of that short as fuck kid jumping high enough to stuff his opponent. Maybe that kid was actually an alien. With super abilities.

\- - -  
3 months later…  
\- - -

Shouyou heaved a sigh, propping his cheek on his fist as he morosely read through a list of high schools in Suma Ward and neighboring areas. He’s read through the list a dozen times already, looked up their school websites, and disappointedly read through the sport programs each of them had to offer.

Not one of them had a beach volleyball club.

He’d thought, after the season he had, he might get an invitation or scholarship to one of the high schools in Okinawa, Tokyo, Somewhere With A Beach Volleyball Club. He’d heard about some other third year players getting calls from scouts. But he hadn’t received a single invitation. Not one scout had expressed interest in bringing a short volleyball player to their school.

Honestly, volleyball was the only reason he wanted to go to high school. His mother wanted him to go, no matter what, and would be disappointed if he didn’t. The thought of going to school purely to study gave him cold sweats and a nauseous stomach. He felt a part of his soul wither and die when he imagined sitting through classes with no promise of sweet, sweet sand and volleyball at the end of the day.

His senpais before him had continued to play beach volleyball at Suma Shofu High School, but last year the club lost their (very limited) funding and had to disband. Shofu High wasn’t an option anymore, unless he wanted to give up beach volleyball.

That idea actually had his stomach cramping and his chest feeling like it caved in.

He could try testing into a school, try to get to one of the great academies in Okinawa or Tokyo that way. But that was… an unrealistic plan.

He wasn’t great at testing.

More importantly, it was expensive to go to a school in a different part of the country. Really, really expensive. He knew his family just couldn’t afford to send him to Okinawa, pay for student residence, plus tuition fees. Not without a scholarship to lessen some of the burden.

He was stuck going to a school somewhere in Kobe unless given a scholarship.

It was crushing to think that his volleyball days were over. He had played in his last tournament the previous weekend, at the Champions Tournament, ending his middle school career. He hated to think it was the last time he’d ever play an official match and all he’d have to look forward to were reunion matches with his old teammates.

There had to be a way he could keep playing volleyball. There was a solution somewhere out there, he just had to find it.

Mori was so lucky, he was only a second year. He had another whole year of middle school beach volleyball before he had to start worrying about high school. And he was tall, and good, so he’d definitely have scouts interested in him next year.

“Shou-chan, what time is that news segment going to air?” he heard his mother ask him from the kitchen.

“Um.” He racked his brains for the answer. He’d looked up the schedule online just a few hours ago.

“Six-thirty-ish?” he called back.

“Oh! Not long now! I’m turning it on, we’re watching on the television in the living room. Come watch with your sister and me.”

“Okay.” He felt a little excitement at the thought of seeing himself on television, but the list of schools in front of him dampened the feeling almost as soon as it started to grow.

A burst of frustration had him crumpling the list and shoving it into a drawer of his desk.

Natsu had a bowl of popcorn and his mom was setting out a plate of snacks, smiling big at him when he entered the living room. He felt his face heat with embarrassed pride seeing his family treat this like a big event. His family were the best.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he tried to say, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

“Yes it is,” his mother gently scolded. “My son is on the news! You accomplished something really impressive, and you are being recognized for it. That is a big deal.”

“Yeah,” Natsu chimes in simply, between stuffing handfuls of popcorn into her mouth. “It’s pretty cool.”

He smiled then, and jumped over the couch armrest to sit by his sister, stealing a handful of popcorn for himself.

They chatted about other topics as the news started, none of them interested in the politics that took up the first half of the news broadcast.

“They’ve been talking about the same scandal for three days now…” his mom idly commented before asking Natsu about her friend’s upcoming birthday party.

Finally, the sports portion of the broadcast began.

Shouyou tensed and he felt Natsu practically vibrating with excitement next to him.

Newscaster Ito came on the screen, a wide smile plastered on his face. _“It’s been a big week in the world of volleyball! First up, the Under Fifteen Beach Volleyball League competed in their last tournament of the season in Okinawa, at the Champions Tournament. The tournament is a national event with only the top twenty duos competing.”_

A clip of the tournament started playing and Shouyou sucked in a breath when he saw himself set a ball to Mori, who spiked it down into the sand on the opposite side of the net. He landed with a roar and a fist pump, then was tackled by Shouyou in a hug. That had been the winning point.

“It’s Nii-chan! It’s Nii-chan!” Natsu shouted, their mom shushing her quickly.

_“...an excellent performance from the athletes. From Hyogo, the Hinata/Mori duo took first overall—”_

Now both his mom and sister were shouting, incoherent cheers and whoops. Shouyou couldn’t hold back his laughter and didn’t really try. He was happy, why try to pretend he wasn’t?

Another clip was playing, it seemed to be a montage of highlights from their matches. Shouyou serving. Mori diving for a save. Shouyou jumping for a hit. Shouyou kicking his foot out for a desperate save, and then Mori bumping it over in a long shot that barely landed in bounds.

Then it cut to the podium where they were accepting gold medals, with the second and third place winning duos next to them.

 _“...and from Tokyo, the Nakamura/Endo duo took third.”_ The broadcast cut back to Ito. In a small box edited over his shoulder, clips of the players talking began silently playing. Shouyou was seen wearing a big grin on his face and his gold medal around his neck, mouth moving a mile a minute. _“For interviews with the winners, go to our website, JNC dot com slash sports slash volleyball.”_

The box started playing new clips, this time showing a cheering crowd holding signs and wearing mostly red, black, and white colors.

“Awww. Is that it? I wanted to hear Nii-chan’s interview,” Natsu pouted.

Shouyou was a little disappointed they hadn’t aired that part, too, but it had still been cool to see himself on television. And the highlights of their match! That was cool too!

“Congratulations again, Shouyou,” his mother said, getting his attention and patting his shoulder. “I’m really so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Mom.” That was nice to hear. He felt his shoulders rise up to his ears and his cheeks heat.

 _“MIYA-SAN!”_ two girls scream-cheered at the same time, breaking the quiet moment in the Hinata living room and shocking them all into looking at the television again.

_“—qualifying for the National Interhigh tournament this spring. It will be Inarizaki High’s twenty-ninth time attending nationals.”_

A team of twelve players were warming up, doing volleyball drills on an indoor court.

Shouyou watched with eyes wide and mouth gaping. There were so many of them! And they were all so huge! And the crowd! Was! Huge!

A clip of an indoor volleyball match started playing and Shouyou felt himself leaning towards the screen. It was so fast paced, the players running and jumping, digging the ball, a quick set, a smack, and then it started all over in a long rally. It was like, bop, bop, boom, pow, pah, smack!

“Wow,” he said out loud.

_“The stars of the team are undoubtedly, first year starters, Miya Atsumu and Miya Osamu. Setter, Miya Atsumu, will likely make the All-Japan Under Nineteen team…”_

Shouyou stopped listening to the newscaster’s voice, transfixed by the game playing on the screen. Teams of six on each side of the net, moving around each other like a well oiled machine. How they all knew where the other was going and didn’t run into each other was a mystery. Did they have some sort of telepathy? Could you practice things like that?

A player sent the ball in a perfect set right to where another player was leaping in the air, ready to spike. It was beautiful.

It made Shouyou’s heart go _ba-dump!_

And immediately after, all the players shifted around again, ready for defense.

_“...and a dark horse team from Nagano Prefecture, Kamomedai High School, pulled off a surprising win in their prefectural qualifiers in perhaps the biggest upset of the year. Even more surprising is their roster of players, claiming both the tallest and shortest players of the tournament. Hakuba Gao reaches a shocking two-hundred and three centimeters, while player Hoshiumi Kourai is less than one-hundred seventy centimeters…”_

Cutting off the fascinating game he was watching, the screen showed a player with spiky light colored hair, glaring at a reporter. Then it cut to him playing, jumping high up in the air to hit the ball.

“Whoa!”

Now that was super freaking awesome! All the other players had been super tall (it was the same in beach volleyball, Shouyou was unfortunately used to it), but this player was short. Like him! And he was really good, so good that he was on the news!

A short player on a team of six, standing out.

Shouyou felt breathless, his mind racing.

Hoshiumi Kourai.

_“...Inarizaki, along with other top teams in the nation: Itachiyama, Mujinazaka, and Shiratorizawa. We wish all the athletes good luck in the Spring National Tournament, scheduled to begin early January, 2012. And now, the results of the recent Fall Classic Swimming competition…”_

Shouyou blinked and suddenly the volleyball players and indoor courts were gone, replaced by swimmers and a pool.

He sat back, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling. His mom and sister were still chattering about the short segment that included Shouyou, but he was busy having an epiphany.

Or maybe that’s not the right word.

He had an idea. Whether it was genius or idiotic was still uncertain. But the feeling in his chest—light and bursting—made him believe that his idea was a good one.

“Shouyou, what do you want for dinner? I’ll let you pick tonight.”

Natsu not so sneakily whisper-shouted, “Pizza!”

But he was too busy thinking about volleyball to think about food, thinking about the questions he desperately needed answers to—right that second, and answered distractedly, “Pizza sounds good.”

Then he got up and practically ran to his room. “I’ll be in my room, mom! I need to do some research.”

Perhaps he’d been so focused on finding a solution to playing beach volleyball in high school that he’d overlooked a slightly off the wall, but still possible, other option.

He had some research to do on high school indoor volleyball teams in his area.

It wasn’t his volleyball, played in the sand with the wind and sun, helping or hindering the players by the whims of the gods (or science, whatever). But it was still volleyball. Played on a court, with six players on each side, and moving at a pace so fast it made his heart race just watching.

Yeah. This just might be the solution he wasn’t looking for, but needed anyway.

\- - -

It’s not that Shouyou didn’t know about the existence of indoor volleyball before the news broadcast. Of course he knew, it was another form of his all time favorite sport, his reason for being, his one true love.

He had just focused so intensely on beach volleyball all through middle school, on how he could improve his skills in the sand, that he sort of… forgot about indoor volleyball, except when they had to play it in gym class. He didn’t follow the sport, the teams, or the players because it really had nothing to do with him. He had rivals in beach volleyball to focus on—to crush into the sand.

The sport just wasn’t on his radar.

Until, suddenly, it was.

It wasn’t like baseball or soccer or basketball, where the sports were so popular that you couldn’t help overhearing people talk about them. He’d heard about the great baseball schools and soccer teams, the legendary and almost mythical basketball players, because it’s what everyone talked about at his school. Even the teachers. It was obvious how popular those sports were and that most students wanted to play those sports.

He hadn’t realized that indoor volleyball was sort of popular too. Not on the same level as baseball or soccer, and there seemed to be more girls’ teams across the nation.

But it was still more popular than beach volleyball by a wide margin.

In Tokyo alone, there were over two hundred high schools with boys’ teams.

It blew Shouyou’s mind.

In his own prefecture, there were seventy teams.

Seventy!

In Kobe, the city where he lived in, there were seventeen teams.

In his ward, Suma, the high school he had originally planned on going to that cut their beach volleyball club, had a boys’ indoor team. He actually laughed when he saw the club page on the school website, giddy at the discovery.

He could definitely still play volleyball in high school if he switched to playing indoor instead of beach. There were so many options!

But it still hurt his heart in a tight, crunching pain to think of giving up the sand and sun and his kind of volleyball.

He told himself that what must be done, must be done, and kept up his online search.

Then he sort of fell down a rabbit hole of high school indoor volleyball.

Articles and videos and even fan-sites about players, amazing players who were like idols, drew him in and wouldn’t let go. Names like Ushijima and Kiryuu and their team’s names, Shiratorizawa and Mujinazaka. He became aware of just how great some players were, how great their teams were.

And, well, after seeing that clip of Hoshiumi Kourai on the news, he may have become a little obsessed with him and his team, Kamomedai. A school that qualified for Nationals against all the odds, and a player who was called the “Little Giant.” It was too bad there weren’t many interviews with Hoshiumi, but Shouyou was happy when he found some videos of games posted online.

Becoming familiar with the world of indoor volleyball, the greatness of the teams and players, and just how glamorous and amazing it seemed, Shouyou’s goals naturally shifted and grew. His ambitions became loftier.

He didn’t just want to continue playing volleyball in high school. He wanted to play and win. He wanted to make it to that National stage.

Watching videos of Inarizaki at the previous National tournament, with their big band and orchestra, the cheer team, the lights and cameras, and the high level volleyball being played, his goal cemented in his mind.

He couldn’t join just any team that would take him. He had to aim for as high as he could go. He didn't want to settle for Shofu High’s volleyball team that hadn’t placed higher than tenth in the prefecture in over a decade. And maybe he was a little arrogant after taking first place in the Champions Tournament, because he thought he could make it onto a good team with his experience in beach volleyball. It couldn’t be that hard to switch to indoor, could it?

And secretly, privately, he had another reason for aiming so high.

He wanted to go to a school that would get him as close to Hoshiumi Kourai’s level as possible.

He may have done quite a bit of research on Kamomedai and daydreamed about joining that team… before reality settled in again and he realized he had the same problem getting into that school as he did trying to get into a school in Tokyo or Okinawa to play beach volleyball. Too far away, needing a scholarship, not likely to test in…

First, he had to look within Hyogo and the schools Kobe had to offer. If he could find a good enough school here, then maybe he’d get a chance to play against Hoshiumi at the national level—the next best thing to actually playing with him.

Once he narrowed his search location down, it was easy to find the best team in Hyogo.

Inarizaki.

Also number three in the nation, which was perfect. That was a really good school, at least as good as Kamomedai (maybe even better).

Next, he needed to do more research on Inarizaki.

It was funny, because the first search engine result he found online was a video of the news clip Shouyou had been featured in himself. On JNC dot com slash sports slash volleyball.

He paid more attention to the portion about Inarizaki the second time he watched it. (Although he was almost too distracted by his own interview, which was included in this online version of the broadcast. He felt himself blush from ears to toes as he listened to himself babble about winning and playing volleyball and blurt sound effects as he described his best hits and tosses. And the inevitable, unoriginal remarks about his height the interviewer made, along with talking about ‘what a disadvantage he had to overcome’. Ugh. He understood why Hoshiumi might not want to do interviews if he got the same kinds of questions just because he was short. Also... it was embarrassing to see himself babbling like an idiot. And the view count—in the thousands!—was truly mortifying.)

Inarizaki was a team right here in his own city. They’d taken third at the last national tournament. They had amazing fans and a band that showed up for every game. Their motto was “We Don’t Need Things Like Memories,” which was super cool.

And they had two star players that were kind of like volleyball idols. The Miya Twins. First years, like Hoshiumi Kourai. They had been a big deal in middle school, too, before becoming starters in high school.

Inarizaki seemed like just the kind of school he wanted to attend.

\- - -

Coach Kurosu had a good eye for volleyball players. He could find the most talented and skilled players hiding amongst hundreds. And the privilege of coaching the best team in the prefecture meant most of those great players came to him, showed up for Inarizaki tryouts, and he got to handpick the ones he wanted for his team.

But not always.

Sometimes, the players he wanted went to other schools, or quit volleyball to focus on studies, or just didn’t think they were good enough to even try for the Inarizaki team. So he went to them.

Kita Shinsuke was one example of a player he went to because he would have otherwise quit the sport after middle school. Shinsuke didn’t even get a jersey in middle school, but Kurosu found him and didn’t necessarily see talent or above average skill, but what he did see was leadership. A model hardworking player. He decided he needed that for his team and recruited him. It had been one of his most unusual recruitments, drawing doubt from more than a few of his colleagues. But it all went just as he hoped it would.

The third and second years that had been growing increasingly arrogant with mountainous egos, had been smacked down and humbled to see a first year working so diligently, and with no great skill getting all the praise and attention from the head coach that they wanted. It had been a balancing act, not favoring Kita too much, but still getting his older players back in line. Kita had also improved as a player by leaps and bounds and earned a numbered jersey. It was perhaps one of his more genius coaching decisions.

And then the next year he got those damn twins.

Honestly, if Shinsuke didn’t terrify those two into pretending to be respectful kohais at least twenty percent of the time, Kurosu might have had anarchy on his team. Definitely would have had mutiny from the older players who wanted to drop the Miya brothers into a dumpster for taking two starting spots as first years, and then having absolutely no tact as they smugly bragged about how great they were. And how terrible the non-starters were.

Yes, Shinsuke was a valuable find and addition to his team. And he was always looking for more players that would add something extra. Something unexpected. Something, anything, that would strengthen his team.

Kurosu knew he had to be open-minded and on the constant look out to make sure those diamonds in the rough didn’t slip by. Hundreds of middle schools with volleyball teams in the prefecture meant there was plenty to sort through for future players. It was a lot to stay caught up on. He spent any free time he could fit in his schedule reading sports news and watching videos and game tape. Any time that wasn’t spent on keeping up with the other high schools that were his team’s rivals.

But most of his time and attention undoubtedly went to his own team, his own players, and drawing out their full potential.

He didn’t have a lot of free time. His wife complained about it constantly.

So, he started delegating. Most of the scouting duties went to his assistant coach, Oomi.

Kurosu was supposed to have a meeting with the assistant coach over lunch to discuss some promising potential recruits. He also had some things he wanted to discuss about the schools they’d be facing at Spring Nationals now that most of the prefectural qualifiers had finished.

Oh, and the All Japan youth training camp in December. Miya Atsumu had been invited but not Osamu, which Kurosu thought might be a problem. He lost track of time as he imagined in vivid detail the temper tantrum that would ensue as soon as he announced the invitation.

Oomi pulled him out of his thoughts as he arrived with two bentos and armed with a folder, a notebook, and a tablet.

“Coach Kurosu,” he greeted him, with a nod as he took a seat. He slid one of the bentos over.

“Oomi-san.” He nodded back, accepting his lunch, and shuffled the papers he had spread out in front of him into a neat pile. “Anything interesting?”

It was how he always started these meetings.

Oomi sighed and gave a half-shrug with one shoulder. “There’s a kid with a great serve from the same middle school the twins attended. Uh…” He opened a folder, closed it, opened his notebook and turned a few pages before nodding. “Riseki Heisuke. Decent all ‘round skills, but it’s his serve that’s wicked. And there’s…”

They went through a few other prospects before Kurosu turned the discussion over to rival high school teams and the upcoming national tournament.

“Didjya see the team that’ll represent Nagano?” he asked, looking out of the corner of his eye to see Oomi’s reaction without being obvious.

The assistant coach didn’t disappoint, shaking his head and slapping a hand down on the table, rocking back in his chair. “Kamomedai! Outta nowhere! They haven’t made it to nationals in years—but it’s no wonder they made it, with that giant Hakuba on their team. Man! Whatta monster that kid is…”

Kurosu waited, hoping Oomi had noticed more than just Hakuba, or else he’d have to question his assistant’s judgment of players and his reliability as a scout.

But, again, Oomi didn’t disappoint.

“And that little one, Hoshiumi, what a game changer he turned out to be. Shocked the other team into giving him at least ten free points, and he earned the other sixteen fair and square. A tiny Ace, who’da thought...” Then he leaned toward Kurosu—one of his habits and Kurosu knew to pay attention because it meant his assistant was about to give his honest opinion and insight. “The twins were a sorta shock factor for us, ya know. Other teams would get overwhelmed by them, until about the middle of the second set when they’d finally get used to ‘em. But that shock factor is bound to get less and less effective. Especially with the amount of media attention they get. Everyone will learn to be prepared for their tricks and surprise plays. It sure would be nice to get another player next year with that same shock factor.”

Kurosu grinned, slightly amused. “It’d sure be interestin’.” But he gave his assistant a stern look. “But don’t get tunnel vision, looking for someone flashy. Sometimes the best players are real quiet and hide behind those flashy players.” He pursed his lips and added a little scornfully, “And we don’t need a gimmick to win.”

Not that Hoshiumi was a gimmick. That kid was a real player. Exceptional. Like the twins. But it sounded like Oomi might like him most for that “shock factor” and Kurosu didn’t want him focusing too much on that in other players he was scouting. While it might be entertaining, it doesn’t always win games.

“That bein’ said,” he leaned back with a smile, “if you can find a player as skilled and good for the team as they are, uh, “shocking”—then by all means, let me know.” After all, he had a penchant for recruiting unexpectedly valuable players.


End file.
